


preheat to 350F

by kokofas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baker Lance, Bakery AU, Cupcake AU, Long-haired Keith, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, The one fic where lance knows how to bake and hunk DEFINITELY DOES NOT
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 09:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kokofas/pseuds/kokofas
Summary: If Lance knows one thing in life, it's that every person on earth has a cupcake that is The Cupcake. He knows this, and he has never been wrong about it. So when a new customer of his admits that he doesn't evenlikecupcakes, he makes it his mission to figure out The Cupcake for him. Little does he know that this mission includes obstacles, like falling for a man who doesn't even sweeten his black coffee.





	preheat to 350F

**Author's Note:**

> this is what i do a night before heading off to college

Lance yawned as he pushed his way through the door and into the little patisserie, the little bell he’d had installed in front of the door announcing his arrival. This early in the morning, he knew the only other person that could already be there was Hunk, his business associate as well as his closest friend.                             

The clangs he heard resonating from the kitchens concealed by the decorated wall behind the counter confirmed this, and he sighed as he pushed his way through the swinging door leading to the kitchen. He found Hunk there, hunched over and collecting a few soapy utensils and baking trays from the tiled floor.

“Morning, Hunk. Why are you in this kitchen after I specifically asked you to stay 10 feet away from it at all times?” Lance asked as he stepped over the man’s head and grabbed his pale-blue apron from the hanger in the corner. He slipped his head through the neck hole, tying back the ribbons with expert hands and grinning down at Hunk’s failed attempts at collecting everything at once.

“I thought I’d wash up all those dirty pans and counters for you. I mean, you left a real mess here last night. What were you making?” Hunk asked as he finally managed to retrieve all the pieces from the floor, stepping carefully over the soapy water under them.

“Just experimenting. All of it was crap, though.” Lance walked into the pantry at the back, retrieving a few boxes of eggs, milk, and other basic ingredients for his cupcakes before placing them onto the center counter, which Hunk had already thankfully cleared for him.

“Did you keep any for me?” Hunk sounded hopeful as he loaded what could fit into the dishwasher and starting its cycle.

“Sorry, Pidge grabbed it all.” Lance nearly laughed as Hunk doubled back in shock, giving him a look that could only be described as betrayal.

“You let Pidge take my cupcakes.“

“They’re not your cupcakes-“

“Lance, when we first started this project you promised any extra cupcakes were mine. That means they’re inherently my cupcakes.” Hunk said seriously, and Lance bit back his laugh.

“Oh give Pidge a break, they’re a hungry college student. Besides, they agreed to stay behind later with me to close up shop. _You_ never do that.” Lance raised an eyebrow as he took a large mixing bowl Hunk had just finished washing and placed it in front of him on the counter, beginning to add the ingredients for the base of his more standard cupcakes. They weren’t the ones that sold the most, as people often preferred his strange concoctions, but they still sold enough for him to need to make a big batch in the morning, and if they didn’t sell out completely, there were always people willing to take them home gratis.

“I don’t do it because I come here every _morning_ to help you open up!” Hunk exclaimed. “I’m so underappreciated around here.” Lance could hear the pout in his voice. He glanced up to find Hunk moodily drying his hands, now finished with cleaning the utensils.

“You’re so dramatic, Hunk.” He snorted. “Go clean up the displays, I can count a dozen hundred handprints on them.”

He rolled his eyes as Hunk stomped out of the kitchen, grumbling to himself about “slavery” and “injustice”.

Amused, Lance refocused his attention on the work at hand. They had to open in an hour, and he had to get started on the cupcake of the day.

* * *

 

If Lance was thankful for one thing, then it was the fact that the weather was starting to cool down. It had been quite the hot summer, and even if that hadn’t been the case, springs and summers were always a little tough on the little patisserie. No one felt like eating cake or a cupcake in the middle of a sunny day, much preferring ice cream, which they didn’t serve. So, during summer days they would often keep the place closed, after Hunk and Lance, with the help of their self-renowned accountant Allura, figured out that the cost of running the shop cost much more than they could earn in a day. As such, during those seasons most of their revenue came from catering for weddings, birthday parties, and such occasions, which managed to cover their asses.

But fall, fall was a high season. As the weather started to get colder, people started heading indoors and craving things like warm baked goods and sugary treats. Fall was the time everyone headed into their patisserie for safety from the cold, after realizing they had underdressed. And fall was the time Lance could regain the energy to stand up all night and experiment with new cupcake recipes, no longer troubled by the sickening heat that made him want to crash on the couch with only underwear on all day.

It was mid-morning and so far, they’d sold a few dozen cupcakes and countless cups of hot chocolate to passers-by. A lot of the people that came to the shop were regulars. People who had accidentally wandered into the place once and were now hooked onto one or another of his cupcakes. A part of him always felt guilty about it, especially when one of those fitness freaks walked in and bought yet another cupcake he knew didn’t really fit into their diet plan. But another part of him loved nothing more than baking sweets for others to enjoy. Often, he wondered if he’d gotten that from his mom, who’d spend hours at night baking cakes for him and the other kids in their apartment building, even though she had work every single day of the week.

Looking around his shop, with its pastel-green walls and white, vintage seats and tables, he smiled. She wasn’t here to appreciate it anymore, but he knew she would have liked it too.

The bell at the door snapped him out of his trance, and he watched a young man around his own age make his way to the counter. He was wearing a black colored sweatshirt with an astronomical illustration Lance couldn’t really decipher with a glance, and his hair was tied back in a red hairband, a few too-short strands falling out. He had a serious look on his face, and Lance found himself straightening up as he reached the counter.

“Good morning! How can I help you?” Lance cheerfully asked, a smile drawn across his lips as he tried to figure out what the man would ask for before he actually did. He liked to play that game in his head, trying to guess what people liked and came here for. He was often right, too. But with this one, he just had no clue, couldn’t pin it down, and felt a prick of annoyance at that.

“Just coffee. Black.” The man responded quickly, not even bothering to glance at the options on display, or the chalkboard hung on the wall that Hunk had updated with the day’s special goodies earlier.

“Sure thing.” Lance’s toothy grin turned into a softer, reluctant smile. He wasn’t sure why the man was so serious, but he knew there were plenty of reasons a person could be feeling cranky. He turned towards the coffee machine, starting it as he placed one of his personal-favorite cups under, a cup with a delicate engraving of a still ocean progressively turning into a giant wave as the cup was turned around, the entire cup a soft tint of blue. “Creamer?” He asked, turning to glance at the man.

“No, thanks.” He answered. Turning back around to place the cup onto its twin plate, he brought the cup back to the man, shaking his head as the man began going for his money. “We take payment after you’re about to leave. People tend to go back for more while sitting here.” He looked sheepish, and frowned a little in confusion as the man simply took his cup away and went to the farthest corner, one that faced the large windows overlooking the street below. He watched the man tentatively sip from his cup, never removing his gaze from the scene outside, but then the arrival of other customers distracted Lance from the man.

Between small, friendly chats with his regulars, and conversations with curious newcomers who weren’t exactly sure what they should pick, he snuck glances at the man, wondering what exactly he was thinking about.

* * *

 

The man had ended up spending the next couple of hours at the patisserie, and had come back for the same order again the next day, and the next day, and the day after that. Needless to say, Lance was both confused and annoyed beyond measure. For one, the man refused to look at the displays no matter what, and he _still_ never took any creamer or sugar. At this point, Lance had half a mind to direct him to a coffee stand down the street that sold black coffee for fifty cents, but he kept his mouth shut, if only for the profit.

At around 10 AM the bells jingled to announce the arrival of his newly obtained regular. Lance looked up from where he was setting down a fresh plate of cookie dough cupcakes in the display, putting on a wide smile as the man approached the counter. The man ordered what his black coffee, and sat in his usual spot.

Work was slow that day, so Lance had plenty of time to come up with dumb ideas. Said dumb idea came to life as the man headed back to the register where Lance was seated, ready to pay before he left. Lance held up his hand as the man offered the correct amount to him, decided to start a conversation with him.

“What’s your name?” He asked, watching the man blink at his bluntness.

“Keith.” The man responded a few beats later. His voice was a little raspy that day, like he was coming down with something, but Lance thought it made his voice sound even better. Not that he thought his voice sounded good or anything.

"Well, Keith, now that you’re a regular here, I think you qualify for a free cupcake.” Lance gestured towards the display that contained the remaining cupcakes, face falling as Keith shook his head.

“No thanks, that’s not necessary.”

“But it’s free.” Lance frowned in confusion.

“I don’t like cupcakes.” Keith shrugged.

“You don’t like cupcakes?” Lance asked, snorting. “That’s impossible. Everyone likes cupcakes.” He crossed his arms against his chest as he narrowed his eyes at the man. He knew he was getting competitive like he always did with _everything_ , but he wasn’t about to let this fly. To say that one hated cupcakes was to sin, in his books.

“Well, I don’t.” Keith crossed his arms against his chest in return, the two a perfect reflection of the other’s saltiness.

“You have to like at least one kind of cupcake. Come on. You’ve never had a good cupcake in your life?” Lance asked in disbelief.

“I’ve never liked them, so I haven’t eaten them since I was little.” Keith explained. “Why is this such a big deal?” He raised a dark eyebrow at Lance, the money still held in his hand.

“Because, as you may have noticed, cupcakes are _my thing_.” An idea popped up in Lance’s brain, and he quickly added. “Look, everyone has a cupcake that is _theirs_. That defines them. Hey, don’t look at me like that!” He scowled, then continued. “Anyway. How about you let me try to guess yours?”

“Will it make you let me pay?” Keith asked, amusement tinging his voice.

“Yes!” Lance grinned excitedly. “Okay, okay. Let me think.” His expression turned thoughtful as he studied the man, Keith shifting awkwardly under his gaze. Keith was clearly a mysterious type, the kind of man that kept things to himself and didn’t really go out of his way to talk to people. He dressed plainly, and seemed to prefer the color black over others when it came to clothing, though his red hairband was a constant element of his attire. If Lance was being honest, he thought the colors really complimented the man’s skin-tone and brought out the man’s simple beauty.

 _Shit. Focus._ Lance snapped himself out of the train of thought chugging along in his brain, returning his attention to the task. Keith was waiting for his judgement still, and was probably running out of patience at this point. Lance smiled, tapping his finger against his lips absently as he mulled over the choice that had occurred to him, before humming and nodding.

“I know.” Lance made his way to the middle of the display, sliding the glass open and reaching in for the dark brown cupcakes there, complete with whipped cream and a cherry on top. He slid it back closed after he had the cupcake in his hand, presenting it to the dark-haired man.

“Black forest cupcake. It’s not following the cake to a T, but in my opinion, it’s even better than it.” Lance smiled wider as Keith accepted it, inspecting it as he held it in his hand.

“I don’t know…” He began.

“Try it.” Lance encouraged him. “No one has ever called a cupcake I’ve made bad.”

“Very humble.” Keith mumbled, a small smirk appearing on his lips as Lance pointed his tongue at him. Lance watched him peel the paper off the bottom of the cupcake, inspecting it curiously before biting into it. Keith’s eyes widened, and Lance knew he’d just tasted the cherry stuffing within. He himself wasn’t a huge fan of surprise cherry stuffing, but he’d managed to make it work with this cupcake, judging by how often it sold out. Lance felt the excitement heighten within him as he watched the man chew and swallow the cupcake, impatient to hear the response.

“So?” He clapped his hands together, the giddiness seeping into his voice.

“It’s good.” Keith started, waiting a few beats for what Lance suspected to be added suspense. “But it’s not the one.” He smirked.

“What?” Lance’s mouth fell open in surprise, watching Keith put the money he owed for the coffee on the table. “What was wrong with it?”

“Nothing, it’s really good actually.” Keith shrugged. “But it’s not the one, you know?” He smiled. “I’ll still keep the rest of it for the road, though.” He grinned, taking another bite of it as he backed away from the counter.

“I’ll get it right next time!” Lance called after him, his cheeks warming up as Keith turned around to wave at him, the cupcake held in his mouth, before disappearing through the door.

Lance was _definitely_ not going to let him win. He would find Keith’s cupcake, even if it meant he had to create an entirely new one himself.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
